


To The Wall

by Actual_Writing_Trashcan



Series: Colossus Hyperfixation Collection [89]
Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, Chases, Costume Party, Dirty Talk, F/M, Halloween Costumes, It works trust me, Sexy Costumes, Shameless Smut, Smut, TIL THE SWEAT DRIPS DOWN MY -sorry, Wall Sex, as an expression of horniness, no actual inclusion of the party, playful chasing, we're here for the smut and smut alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:20:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27202381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Actual_Writing_Trashcan/pseuds/Actual_Writing_Trashcan
Summary: You wear a sexy costume to a --adult's only--costume party, and Piotr likes it so much that he fucks you against a wall when the two of you get back home.That's it. That's the fic.(Set after "It's Truly Magical.")[All warnings in the tags. This is part of a weekly October series that will ramp up in smutiness as each week passes.]
Relationships: Piotr Rasputin/Reader
Series: Colossus Hyperfixation Collection [89]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1079544
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	To The Wall

He’d had half a mind to take you in the car. It would’ve been easy to find a spot to pull off, park, and cut the lights. The two of you could’ve clambered into the back; he could’ve sat on one of the seats and had you ride him until the windows were fogged and your costumes were ruined from sweat and… _other things_ …

It was a contrived fantasy. Simply put, he was too big for car sex to work. There was no way for him to comfortably on top of you in the car, and riding him was a quick, guaranteed road to smacking your head on the roof of the SUV.

Fortunately, patience was something Piotr Rasputin had always been good at. He’d bided his time on the drive back from the costume party, chatting amiably with you while arousal burned through his veins.

It was your damn costume. The party had been adults only, so you’d decided to go as a “sexy mouse” for the hell of it. It hadn’t bothered him –and still didn’t; what you chose to wear was your choice, and he was happy to respect it.

What he hadn’t expected, though, was for the outfit to trigger his libido as strongly as it had. Watching you flounce around the party in a skimpy, lacy dress and a pair of heels with a pair of mouse ears on your head and whiskers painted on your cheeks…

_Blyad_. Piotr took a careful, measured breath as he parked the car in the garage. His pants were already a tad too tight as it was –one of the drawbacks of going as a ‘Sexy Secret Agent,’ at your bequest—and his erection wasn’t making things any more comfortable.

You let out a breathless giggle as you adjust your ‘mouse ears headband.’ “That was fun.”

“ _Soglasovano_.” He cuts the engine and gets out of the car, then loops around the front to get your door for you. “Did you have good time?”

“Hell yeah, I did!” You beam up at him, eyes shining. “Did I make for an accurate _mysh’_?”

A small growl escapes his lips. He reaches down to clutch at your ass –and, for a moment, he has half a mind to bend you over the hood of the car and take you here and now. “Normal _myshey_ are not so…” He lets his voice trail off and dips his head so he can brush his lips against the side of your neck. “… _Neotrazimyy_.”

You shiver. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He chuckles and pinches your thigh gently, which gets a delightful, soft squeak out of you. “Go inside, _myshka_.”

You make it to the halfway to the door before swearing and doubling back. “My purse—”

“I have it.” He waves you off politely. “Go get out of shoes. Be comfy.”

You grin and blow him a kiss. “Thanks, babe.”

He blows you one back, then retrieves your purse –designed to look like a wedge of Swiss cheese—from the front passenger seat of the car. He locks the car, turns out the lights in the garage, then heads inside and closes and locks the door behind him.

The house is dead silent –which would be fine, except he knows you’re inside, and silence isn’t your forte. One of the hallway lights is on; your heels are on the floor. Other than that, there’s no sign of life.

“ _Myshka_?” Piotr hangs your purse on the coat rack next to the garage door, then makes his way into the house. He frowns. “Is everything—”

You leap out from a nearby corner. “Boo!”

He shrieks and jumps back –then grins and immediately grabs at you. “ _Besenok._ Come here.”

You squeal and dart away. You slip and slide on your stocking-clad feet, but you manage to make it to the other side of the couch. You plant your hands on the back of the couch, grinning in challenge at him. “Make me.”

His lips curve into a smile. He growls again, crouching down –then charges.

You shriek when he vaults over the couch. Laughing, you propel yourself out of his reach with a burst of air. You skid down the hall, careening off a wall and scampering into his art studio.

It’s a dead end.

He grins and chases after you. Thanks to his long stride, it takes no time at to catch up to you. He positions himself in the doorway of his art studio, using his bulk to block off your only exit. “Give up?” he teases when your head whips round, looking for some other method of escape.

You grin back and jerk your thumb towards the wall of windows to your right. “There’s always breaking a window.”

“Please, no.” He chuckles when you laugh, then raises an eyebrow at you. “Ready to concede, _myshka_?”

You lift your chin at him; even in the dim light, your eyes shine bright with mischief and defiance. “Never.”

It’s the response he was expecting. Hoping for.

Piotr sighs, feigning disappointment –then lunges at you once more.

You shriek and try to bounce out of the way again –but this time, your stockings come back to bite you. You lose your traction on the floor, sending your feet out from under you and your face on a direct collision course with the hardwood planks.

Piotr switches from playful chase to rescue mode in an instant. He springs to the side and wraps one solid arm around your waist. The other comes up around your chest so he can use his hand to catch your head and prevent you from hurting your neck.

You grunt. Your hands clutch at his arms, helping you brace yourself as you come to a sudden stop. You pant for a moment, eyes trained on the floor a scant few inches away. “Thanks.”

“ _Konechno_.” He helps you stand back up, pressing a kiss to the top of your head once you’re steady on your feet. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart.” You lean against him, smoothing your hands over the planes of his chest. “Seems like you caught me.”

“That I did.” He slides his hands down your back and –gently—squeezes your ass. His lips curl into a smirk when you let out a soft gasp. “Now… what to do with naughty _mysh’_?”

Your body arches against him. You sigh when he brushes his lips against your cheek before moving down to your neck. Your hands slide up to grip his broad, powerful shoulders. “Are you taking suggestions?”

“ _Nyet_ ,” Piotr murmurs against the column of your neck. “I already have idea.”

“Ooh, care to tell me?”

“How about—” he pauses to nip at the junction where you neck and shoulder meet “—I show instead?”

You draw in a shaky breath. “Sounds good to me.”

He presses his fingers under your chin, tipping your head up so he can kiss you. His arms slide around your body, holding you flush against him.

You sigh into the kiss. Your arms wind around his neck, one hand cupping the back of his head so you can stroke your fingers through his hair.

He slowly walks you backwards –mindful of your lack of traction—until you’re pinned between him and a wall. He grips your waist, lifting you with the ease of breathing air. He braces his hips against yours to hold you in place, then lowers his hands to your ass and squeezes.

You whimper. Your wrap your legs around his waist and lock your ankles. “Piotr…”

“ _What am I supposed to do_ ,” he murmurs in Russian as he dips his head so he can attack your neck with his mouth, “ _when you look this good? Hm?_ ” He tugs on your hair –which gets a guttural moan out of you—to tilt your head back so he has better access. “ _What do you expect me to do, little mouse? Do you even know what it was like, watching you all night?_ ”

You squirm against him. You gasp and pant, body arching when he scrapes his teeth over the hollow of your throat. “Fuck.”

“ _Eventually_.”

The two of you grind against each other, hands and lips roaming. The house falls silent, save for your labored breathing and occasional moans and sighs of pleasure.

Piotr’s eyes flutter shut as you mouth at his neck. He rolls his hips against yours, grinning when you let out a pleasured gasp. He slides his hands up your back, gripping the flimsy, lacy material of your dress tight. “Do you like dress?”

“Rip it,” you gasp. Your nails dig into his shoulders. “Fucking –rip it, get it off me—”

The dress comes apart in his hands like wet tissue paper. He helps you slide the straps off your arms, then tosses it onto the ground. His hands go to the clasp of your bra next –he knows how much these things cost, he’s not about to ruin it—and undoes it. He tosses your bra aside, then dips his head to your breasts.

You sigh and wind your arms around his neck. You arch your back, pressing your tits against his face. “ _Piotr_ …”

He kisses the swells of your breasts, then runs his tongue over the sensitive flesh. His arms band around your waist, holding you tight while he mouths at your chest. He focuses on your nipples, teasing each of the peaked buds with his tongue in turn before sucking one between his lips.

Your hips jerk against his. Your fingers clench at his hair, tugging at the dark tresses.

“I want to fuck you,” he growls, switching back to English, “right here, against this wall. I want to fuck you until you scream my name while coming around my cock.” He scrapes his teeth against the underside of your breast, making you whimper. “Until you go limp in my arms.” He sucks at your skin, forming a bruise that’ll stand out dark and proud later. “Until you can’t walk straight.”

You let out a breathless, stutter-y laugh. “So long as you’re fine with carrying me.”

He laughs, soft and tender. “It would be my honor and pleasure,” he says –and means every word of it.

Your hand cups his cheek. When he looks up at you, you smile. “I love you.”

He beams at you, then takes on of your hands and kisses your palm. “ _Ya tebya lyublyu, myshka_.”

You let out a happy sigh and gaze fondly at him –then grind your hips against his and waggle your eyebrows. “So. You gonna fuck me or what, Rasputin?”

He grins. “I think this requires me to lose pants and you to lose tights.”

“That it would. Might go faster if you put me down.”

“Perhaps.” He kisses you, then sets you down and starts undoing his belt.

You strip out of your tights, then whip off your underwear and toss them aside. You wolf-whistle when he steps out of his pants, then wink at him when he smirks and raises an eyebrow at you. “Lose the shirt, too.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really.” You blow him a cheeky kiss. “I want to see all of you in your sexy, beefy glory, baby.”

He obliges –both because he wants to please you, and because he doesn’t want to overheat.

Your gazes darkens as he strips out of the last of his clothes. You lick your lips, eyes tracing the curves of his body before landing squarely on his dick.

Piotr sets his shirt aside, realizes where you’re staring, and snorts. “Take picture, it will last longer.”

“I’d rather suck it,” you murmur, voice heavy with want.

Arousal pulses through him. He swallows reflexively, heart thudding like he’s just run a marathon. “If you want.”

“I _want_.” You take half a step towards him, then sink down to your knees. You stare up at him, eyes wide and pleading. “Please.”

A groan rips its way out of his throat. He closes the distance between the two of you, taking his erect cock in his hand to steady it.

You lean in as soon as he’s close enough. Your hands settle on his hips to steady yourself. You slide your tongue along the underside of his dick, then close your mouth around the tip and suck.

He moans. His free hand slides into your hair, holding it away from your face. He closes his eyes, allowing himself to just _feel_. Arousal coils in his stomach, tense and thick as you start bobbing your head up and down his length in incremental strokes. He takes his hand off his cock so that you can hold onto it instead, leaving the angle and how much you want to take into your mouth up to you, and opts to card his fingers through your hair instead. “ _Myshka_ …”

You moan around his cock. You release him for a moment, taking a few seconds to slide your tongue along his length before you start bobbing your head once more. You hollow your cheeks, sucking on his dick as you slide your head back up before going down once more.

He groans –then winces when you gag. He opens his eyes and makes to move you off his cock—

You’re practically humping the floor while you suck his cock. Your eyes are squeezed shut, hands gripping his hips while you try to work his dick deeper into your throat.

_Want_ flares through his system like a bolt of lightning. He gasps, eyes unfocusing slightly before he manages to get his brain back in order. He murmurs your name, then strokes your cheek with his thumb before sliding his cock out of your mouth. “Come here, _dorogoy_.”

You whimper as he helps you to your feet. You crush yourself against his chest and let out groan when his tongue slides into your mouth –and then you giggle. “You just kissed your own dick.”

Piotr snorts, then nips your jaw in retaliation. “Not first time. Will not be last.”

You laugh again –then inhale sharply when he lifts you up and pins you between the wall and his body. You squirm against him, moaning in the back of your throat. “Come on. Come on, come on, _come on_ —”

“Use words, _moya lyubov’_ ,” he teases. He kisses your neck roughly; delight thrums through him at the way you shudder and whine in his arms. “I know you have many.”

“Just fuck me,” you plead. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, nails digging crescent marks into his pale skin. “Come on, Piotr. _Please_. I want you in me; I want your cock. Please, _please_ –come on!”

He groans, then slides his hands between your legs. “First things—”

“I’m plenty fucking wet enough,” you cut him off, voice going to gravel. “Baby, _please_.”

And you are. His eyes practically roll into the back of his head when he slides his fingers between your folds and feels how _soaked_ you are, how you’re practically dripping down onto his hand already.

“Come on!” You jerk your hips against his hand to drive your point home. “I can take it, Piotr. You know I can, baby, _please_ —”

He growls your name, then aligns his cock with your entrance and shoves in.

There’s basically no resistance. You’re so wet that he’s all the way in, hips pressed flush against yours, in seconds.

“ _Piotr_.” Your eyes roll back in your head. You shudder in his hold. Your lips stretch open into a perfect ‘O’ shape, and you mouth the word “fuck.”

His hold on your hips tighten (and later, he’ll find he left bruises, which you’ll love and he’ll hang his head over until you start kissing his face until he laughs). You’re already pulsing around him, and it’s all he can do to not just… buck into you and take you until you’re both screaming.

You grind your hips against him. “For the love of –okay, I know speed isn’t exactly your schtick, but that does _not_ mean that you have to go full Siberian and move at the speed of a glacier, Piotr!”

He pulls his head back enough to shoot you a quizzical look –because, honestly, where did all _that_ come from—then shakes his head when you start giggling. He smiles ruefully and lets out a fond sigh. “What happened to asking nicely?”

“Will you actually give me what I want if I do?”

He nips at your earlobe, grinning when you shiver. “Worth a shot.”

“ _Please_ fuck me, Piotr. Pretty please, with a cherry on top, except not because neither of us are virgins anymore—”

He laughs –then obliges you.

Your nails rake down his back as he starts rolling his hips against yours. Your eyelids flutter shut. “ _Holyshit_.”

He starts off slow, just to make sure he’s not lined up wrong, but he quickly ramps up to fucking you like you’d asked. He pistons his hips against yours, driving his cock inside you again and again and again…

You arch against him. Your breath leaves you in sharp, staccato gasps and whines. Your thighs tighten around his waist, helping you rock your hips against his as best you can.

The studio fills with the sound of skin slapping against skin and both your moans.

“Piotr!” Your head rocks back, showing off your glistening, sweat slicked skin. “Oh –fuck, I—”

Your name escapes his lips in a groan. He presses his face against your neck, nipping and licking and sucking at your skin while he drives his cock into you. Your walls clutch around him, just briefly, but it’s enough to send his head reeling. “ _Blyad_.”

“ _Ohgod_.” You let out a moan that bounces off the walls of his art studio. Your hips jerk erratically against his. “Fuck – _fuck_. I –Piotr, please—”

“Use your words,” he growls out between moans. “Tell me what you want, _myshka_.”

“Guh.”

He lets out a raspy chuckle, then drags his teeth across your collarbone such that you let out a scream. “Be good girl, _lyublyu_. Use words.”

“‘M gon’ cum.”

The garbled confession sends a bolt of arousal through his body, strong enough to make him gasp. His pace falters, and it takes a couple tries to set the proper rhythm again. “What do you need?”

“My—” You let out a broken moan, hands clutching at his shoulders. “My clit, please, I need—”

“Touch yourself.” He’s close enough to his own climax that he’s not thinking clearly, and he doesn’t want to risk dropping you by adjusting his grip so he can touch you himself. He adjusts his head so he can see down your body, to where his cock’s pumping in and out of your soaked cunt. “Touch yourself for me, _myshka_. I want to see.”

You let out a garbled string of noises –which, in any other situation, might’ve been proper words—then slid your hand between both your bodies. You rub your fingers against your clit, timing the movements of your fingers with his thrusts. You let out a series of moans, each one louder than before. Your chest heaves with each breath you take –and then your body locks up as your let out a scream. “Piotr!”

Piotr’s eyes cross, then close as your walls clench around his cock. His thrusts speed up, body taking over as his mind flickers out. He moans your name as he chases his climax, gasping for breath as he races towards the edge—

And then he falls over it.

The two of you come down slowly, basking in the warm afterglow of your respective climaxes and the security of the intimacy between you.

You wilt against his chest, trembling. “Holy fuck.”

He lets out a breathless laugh, then adjusts how he’s holding you so he can stroke your hair with one hand. “Something like that, _da_.”

You chuckle hoarsely –then lift your head and press a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “Love you, Piotr.”

He turns his head so he can kiss you properly. “And I love you, Y/N.”


End file.
